


The Side Effects of Dying

by SirEskimoChuck



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bittersweet, Brain Cancer, Cancer, Deathfic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:38:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirEskimoChuck/pseuds/SirEskimoChuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If it had been his choice Q wouldn’t have known he was dying at all.  He wasn't even thirty yet so the chances of having brain cancer were slim and really not possible right? Apparently wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Side Effects of Dying

**Author's Note:**

> This terrible idea hit me when I spent a whole day reading 00Q angst fanfiction. I also had been reading The Fault in Our Stars which actually inspired the title of this story. There was a quote about depression being a side effect of dying and I just loved that bit for some reason.
> 
> I'm sorry for any feels I think this will cause. Please don't eat me alive.
> 
> Feedback is always lovely.

**“On a journey, ill;**

**my dream goes wandering**

**over withered fields.”**   
**-Basho**

* * *

 

If it had been his choice Q wouldn’t have known he was dying at all. Why he didn’t want to know was as confusing to him as it was to James Bond.  It was Bond who had dragged the other man to the doctors due to his health.  Q at first didn’t see why it was such a big deal the headaches weren’t all that bad and the other “possible symptoms of brain cancer” were there but barely. Q was sure it was just some passing sickness. Nothing serious. Nothing to worry about.    
  
It was nothing. It had to be nothing. Q wasn’t even old enough to be at risk yet, right?  
“Wrong,” James had said. “There was always that chance,” he had added. Q had just said he was over thinking it all and that he wasn’t going to die at twenty-nine years old. That wasn’t going to happen.

  
  
**XXXX**

 

“There is nothing we can do at this point,” the doctor looked to James as he spoke with a  voice that was far too calm, too  soft, and dripping with sympathy. Q just sat there. Air filling his lungs and only leaving when it was needed in order to breath in once more. His mind had fallen into a blank void of shock and confusion. He heard the doctor talk. He heard Bond reply. He heard the way the other man’s voice broke in attempt to keep himself together. Q could do nothing but sit there looking straight ahead at the rooms white walls.  
  
The idea bounced around his head yet still made no sense. It filled his blank mind as though taunting him. The realization shook, no, pushed him out of the dream like state that had washed over his mind after the news.  
“I’m dying,” the dark haired man whispered to himself. “I’m going to die.”

Once the mist had completely cleared, Q  jumped up from the bed and swiftly walked to the door. This caught the doctor and James Bond’s attention.

“Q what are you doing?” Bond asked. The question was ignored.  Q’s attention was fixed on the older doctor who had a kind smile pasted on his  lips. Q hated that.  He hated all the sympathy and how he was being treated like a little kid with the flu.  Both of the other men were acting as if they understood but it felt just like being mocked. As a result, Q’s lips twisted into a cold frown.  
“I’ve got one question. How long do I have?”  
“Five months if you are lucky.”  
“Thank you, doctor,” the young man replied a little too harshly before spinning on his heels and getting the hell out of hospital. If he had five months to live then Q didn’t want to spend another second in the building. He kept on walking through the streets mindlessly with James at his side. There was no set destination. No plan. Just the need to be alone.  
  
The world began to spin. People were blurs as they pushed passed him. Q’s feet seemed to stop working as he battled to keep walking. It was a battle quickly being lost.  Soon enough, gravity failed to help as his body tilted before stumbling into James who did his best to support his sick lover. However, Q only pushed him away before stumbling to find the nearest wall. His hand hit the cool brick  first before he turned and slid his back down until his body was curled up on the ground and only being supported by the wall. Q could feel people’s eyes staring at him.  He felt naked and alone. It was as if everyone knew about the tumor.

When a warm hand pressed itself against Q’s arm he was quick to shove it off.  James only put it back.

“I’m fine,” the sick man said.  There was no reply.  
“I’m fine,” he repeated voice shaking and weak. But Q wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine at all.  He was shaking, scared, and dying from a bloody tumor in his brain of all places. If Q wasn’t so damn shaken up he might have laughed at the irony in that.  
  
Strong arms wrapped themselves around Q in a tight hug as words of comfort were whispered into his ears. Normally, he would have calmed down fairly quickly. There was something different this time. Q knew James Bond well enough to know how scared he was but the man was just better at hiding it.

  
  
**XXXX**

  
  
James and Q had met at their mutual friend Eve Moneypenny’s Christmas party. After being introduced the two had started playfully flirting more than actually chatting while other guests mingled about not bothering them. Both had hung around one another the whole night. There were no lulls in conversation. No awkward moments of uneasiness between two people who never had met before.  To any onlooker, it seemed that James and Q had known one another all their lives. The instant connection that there was had even surprised Eve a little. At the time, James had been  a struggling stunt double for movies whereas Q had a very promising career in computer programming, When the night was over James and Q swapped contact information and went their separate ways.  
  
The next morning, Q woke up to a new e-mail from James. Smiling to himself, the young brunette had replied before even making himself a cup of earl grey, which was odd. One e-mail turned to two which turned to five which then turned to twenty. E-mails turned to coffee dates which turned to movie dates which turned into dinner dates, After that, Bond was staying nights, then weekends, and one year later both were living together in Q’s small apartment.  
  
The two had been through a fair amount in their four years of dating, They’d had far too many fights and almost broken up on more than one occasion. Yet no matter what they’d battled through everything together. Q now hated himself for once having thought that him and James would always be together.  He knew now that if Bond didn’t leave him due to the cancer than no doubt death was going to separate them.

 

  
**XXXX**

  
  
Not a word had passed between either since arriving back at the apartment. Q had gone and wrapped himself up in the covers of the bed. James had just left him to be alone because he too needed to work everything out. The apartment had a small balcony which Q had never used much before James had moved in. The view itself wasn’t all that bad but the young man found he liked indoors to outdoors. Bond was the opposite.    
  
The light haired man ran his hands down his face before letting out a small sigh. James leaned back in the deck chair resting the back of his head on it while looking up at the dull sky. He had no idea what he was going to do. Sure James was the one who had the gut feeling that something was seriously wrong but now knowing that there actually was left him shocked and worried.  
  
James pulled out his cellphone and dialed in Eve’s number. She answered on the second ring.  
“Well this is different,” the woman joked. “Usually I’m the one calling you so what is wrong?”  
Taking in a shaky breath, Bond responded.  
“Turns out Q has five months to live. Brain cancer.”    
There was a pause.  
“I’m so sorry James,” Eve replied softly. The man laughed half-heartedly.  
“What am I even supposed to say to that? How am I supposed to act?”  
“When my mother was dying of breast cancer you know what I did? I decided to be fine till the end of the week. James, make yourself smile because you’re with him and that’s your job because you’re alive. And then... just do it again next week,” she explained.  
“So fake it?” the other asked. Eve sighed.  
“I call it being professional. Do it right, with a smile, or don’t do it at all,” she added. “Where is Q now?”  
“Curled up like a burrito with the blankets on our bed. He call it being a burrito of sadness or something like that,” Bond replied smiling sadly to himself.   Eve laughed warmly at the thought.  
“Well, here is what I say you do,” she began. “Leave him alone until he wants to talk. Right now things are just as confusing for him as they are for you.  But don’t leave him because what he needs more than anything right now is you.  Listen to him. Be there to support him even though you don’t think you can keep yourself together. And if you leave him, James Bond, I will punch you.”  
“Message received. Thank you Eve.”  
“Not a problem,” Moneypenny replied before the line went dead.

  
**XXXX**

  
  
Q  sat under a fort of bedsheets. He had his laptop open and balancing on his lap. For the last few hours the man had been trying to find a distraction from the fact that he was dying.  With no luck, Q opened up a new word document and wrote.  
  
The Side Effects of Dying - A list.  
  
 _1\. Greif, mostly other peoples._  
 _-Everyone looks at you with either sympathy or guilt and they don’t understand what is like but they pretend to. This is most likely the worst of the side effects or the most annoying._  
  
Anger bubbled up inside the man as he saved the document, closed his laptop, and got out from the sheets.  The sun was setting now. Q might have paused to look out his window if he wasn’t filled with a burst of rage.  Storming out of the bedroom, Q found James out on the balcony enjoying the fresh air and the sunset.  It was a chilly March night but Bond didn’t seem to mind.    
  
It took no time at all for James to notice Q standing behind him. The man turned around away from the balconies railing. No one spoke. James already knew what this was about he could read the anger in Q’s body language he also had expected this.

“Why the fuck did you have to drag me to the doctors?” Q snapped. Bond said nothing. “I didn’t want to know! Now I have to spend the next five months knowing I’ve got only so much time left,” at this point his voice had risen to a yell. People walking by on the streets had taken notice. Neither of the men cared. There were many things that James wanted to say. So many things he wanted to do but he only stood frozen in spot.

“Are you happy now that you’ve ruined everything for me? You’ve taken away my happiness and future. Are you satisfied?” After that, Q spun on his heels and stormed off leaving James be. When he was sure the other was gone, Bond sunk down to the balcony flooring with his back leaning against the cool railing.

  
**XXXX**

  
  
Not a lot broke Jame Bond’s heart but Q was one of the few things that did. When he finally decided to go to bed, James had peaked his head in the doorway of their room  before walking in just in case. What he saw was Q sitting in a chair pulled up to the window.  
“I’m not really the kind for praying,” the young brunette said as he looked out at the sky. “Hell, I don’t even believe in you but here I am, a pathetic mess, begging for my life. I know I’m being selfish but I’m not even thirty. I’m not going to living to see thirty or get married or raise kids or any of that. Is ten more years to much to ask?” Q prayed.

He was getting up from the chair when James spoke.

“Just one more thing, God, I’d happily switch places with Q.” The younger of the two jumped slightly before spinning around. James took a step into the room.  
“I’ve got a lot less to offer to this world than Q does.” The brunette just shook his head as he watched his lover with an expression that was enough to break anyone’s heart.  
“Don’t say that.”  
“It is true though.”  
“I don’t care, don’t say it,” Q replied before quickly walking over to James and throwing himself into the his arms. The hug was tight and desperate, both leaning on the other for support due to the feeling of not being able to stand by on their own. James kissed Q’s temple before resting their foreheads together.  
“We’ll get through this. We always do.”

  
  
**XXXX**

  
Neither James nor Q returned to work. Q had fallen into the grips of despair and James didn’t want to leave him. There was enough money to last them, well, long enough before Bond would have to go back to work and Q would be gone.  
  
Since the apartment didn’t have enough space for a dining table inside,  Q and James had always eaten breakfast either at their small patio table outside or on the tattered old couch which was more often than not covered in books when James wasn’t around to clean up after the other man.

“I’ve been thinking,” Q spoke after taking a sip of his earl grey tea.

“About what?” James replied as he looked up from the days newspaper.  
“Clockwork. I’ve decided that life is not like a clock. It is like clockwork.”  
“Oh? How so?”  
“Well a clock doesn’t work without the clockwork. Life is the gears. Cancer is what caused one gear to rust and stop working. Dying is one by one each gear rusting, Death is when everything stops.” James thought for a second then nodded.  
“I suppose you could think of it that way,”he agreed. Q raised an eyebrow before curling up closer to James.  
“Oh? And what do you think of death then?”  
“It is breathing and then not.”  
  
They sat in silence for a little while enjoying the sound of the other breathing. It was James who finally broke the silence and spoke.  
“I’ve been thinking too.”  
“Well that’s a surprise,” Q snickered.    
“Hilarious,” Bond replied.  
“Okay in all seriousness, what have you been thinking about,” the younger of the two asked.  
“What I’d do if I had five more months to live,” James shrugged.  
“And what is that?”  
“Spend a lot of time with you and drink. More importantly, what are you going to do?” Q thought for a second before replying.  
“I’d like to marry Anne Hathaway.” He had laughed as the other’s face fell at his response.  Q  got up and kissed Bond’s cheek. “I’m kidding.  Apart from spending time with you I’m not sure but I’ll go have a shower and think about it.”  
“Mind if I join you? If we are doing this whole spending time together thing?” James smirked up at Q.  
“I suppose so.”

 

**XXXX**

  
  
James didn’t get his response until a week later. Q had his head resting on the other’s chest as he looked up at the dark ceiling only lit slightly but the lights from the city streets.

“There are only two things I want in the last five months. The first is that I want to spend my last two months out at my parent’s summer house. I’ll tell you about the second later.”  There was a pause while Bond processed the information.

“Are you sure your parents will be okay with that? Better question, do they know?”  
“They won’t care. The summer house  was only really bought for bragging rights.  Yes, I told my parents and they sent some money as well as the usual ‘that’s what you get for living the way you do’ lecture,” Q shrugged.  
“Honestly, I don’t know why you put up with those people,” James grumbled.  
“They’re family.”

  
  
**XXXX**

  
  
Q for the longest time wouldn’t talk about his family with James.  He didn’t even know if the other really had a family up until Q’s birthday two years after they had first started dating. The phone had rung around nine that night. Q had gotten up from the couch to answer it.  The mood had quickly shifted. The kitchen door was shut not allowing Bond to easily listen in on the whispered conversation.  
  
When the door was finally opened once more Q no longer looked as happy as he had only minutes before.  
“What’s wrong?” Bond had asked.  
“Nothing. I’m going to go take a shower and head off to bed,” the brunette answered.  
“So early?”  
“Yes.” Without another word, James was left alone in the living room.  
  
That night  both were curled up on opposite sides of the bed rather than being tangled up in one another like they usually did.  
“It was my parents who called,” Q confessed softly just incase James had fallen asleep. A moment of silence lingered in the air before the other replied.  
“What did they want?” he had carefully asked.    
“Just to bug be about the way I live because they can’t seem to accept it. They actually pay to keep me away. They were the ones who bought this apartment for me and kicked me out of Manchester to move to London.  It is the whole sexuality thing, they can’t accept it but don’t want to look bad for disowning me,” Q explained. “Every year they send a heap of money and lecture me about my life choices.” It was then that bond rolled over and pulled Q against his chest. A soft kiss was pressed on the brunette’s shoulder.

 

**XXXX**

  
  
Q sat in the living room with his laptop on the small coffee table. James had gone out to buy food for dinner that night considering neither was in the mood for attempting to cook something edible.  Searching through his saved documents, Q opened up the one titled The Side Effects of Dying. He then created a new point under the last.  
  
 _2\. Despair which is really your own._  
 _\- How can you not count down the seconds you’ve got left? Everyone is always dying. That is what living is. But not everyone is a timebomb. Knowing about dying is much worse than the dying itself. How can you be positive about that?_  
  
 _3\. Learning what or in my case who is really important._  
 _-James Bond._  
  
Giving a small smile as Bond walked in the door caring take out. Q saved the document before closing his laptop and getting up to walk over to the other.    
“Sorry it took so long. Damn rush hour and all,” James apologized. He was greeted with a quick kiss.  
“No worries now I’m starving so let’s not waste anymore time.”

  
  
**XXXX**

  
  
It was a month later when the symptoms of the brain cancer really started to become a problem. Q began having to need a little more support when getting up and he would often stumble while walking.  However, what really scared both James and Q was when all of a sudden Q wouldn’t be able to see, hear, or even think.  
  
The first time when Q couldn’t hear James was when they were sitting on the old tan couch watching some shitty movie just for the laughs. The older man was explaining something when all of a sudden Q could no longer hear him. He could see lips moving but there was no sound.  Fear washed over him as he tried to speak.  
“I-I can’t hear you,” his own voice was lost in the silence.  “James I can’t hear you. I-I can’t hear anything.” This had caught the other off guard and his face fell into a matching expression of fear. Both sat frozen in spot until the outside world buzzed back.  A weak laugh escaped Q’s lips as he rested his head against Bond’s chest.  
“I can hear you again.”  
  
Each time either Q’s sight or hearing flickered off both men were ready for the possibility of it never returning. It always did and they were always relieved.  
  
Q realized something that made the whole dying thing worse than he had ever thought it could be.  It was a warmer night in April and both men had decided to sit on the balcony just to enjoy the fresh air. With no warning, the world faded out into black.  Panicking, Q latched onto Bond who was sitting in a chair close to him. The young man’s heart raced as he breathed in short puffs of air.  
“Q what’s wrong?” James questioned his voice full of concern.  
“I can’t see,” Q replied. He could feel his body shaking slightly from the shock. James then got up from his seat. After kneeling down in front of Q, his hands were placed on the other’s cheeks. Breathing became easier and soon enough he was calm again. The world faded back. Q was greeted by  an expression on Bond’s face that he had never seen  before.  It was a mix between being completely broken but trying to keep from falling apart and the way you’d look at someone as if it was the last time you’d ever see them again.  
  
Later that night Q pulled out his laptop and wrote.  
  
 _4\. The realization that maybe you’ve got it easier._  
 _\- You’re going to die and that will be it. That is easy, dying is easy. But you aren’t just going to be exactly gone from the world. You’re leaving people behind with memories that they might never forget. Everyone else has it harder._

  
  
  
**XXXX**

  
  
It was in the third month where Q became visibly sick. He became pale and skinny. Bond had thought that the other looked more like a skeleton and less than himself. But Q was still Q only more weak and thin. He didn’t eat much anymore and slept a lot.  Walking had become a pain but was still possible.  When Q wasn’t sleeping he spent every waking second with James. It didn’t matter what they were doing he just couldn’t be alone. He didn’t want to be.  Every night, they’d sit on the balcony and watch the sunset. It was a little cliche sure, but the way Q saw the world had shifted. Each breath had a possibility of being his last just as every sunset might be too. If there was a chance he took it. If he woke up the next morning he was lucky.  
  
  
 _5.Acceptance._  
 _\- You’re going to die and there is nothing you can do about that. Take every second as a gift and don’t waste anymore time being upset.  You’ve only got so much of it left so make the most of it. Be happy. It is the best you can do for yourself and everyone else._

  
  
**XXXX**

  
The fourth month rolled around far too quickly. The summer had finally arrived and it was time for the men to head off to Q’s families summer house.  
“I’m a little sad that I never thought about spending a summer away before,” Q admitted as he watched James pack for the both of them. “I mean you’ll love it and all but I don’t think I’ll be able to do much,” he laughed sadly. James didn’t look up but gave a small nod.  
  
The car ride was fairly short.  For most of the time Q had his head turned to face the window whereas James looked straight ahead at the road. The radio filled the silence with noise rather than music due to neither man really paying any attention to it.  
  
James wasn’t sure what he had been expecting but when he saw the summer home his breath was taken away for a second.  
“Damn Q, I knew you were rich but this is just crazy,” Bond breathed out. The other man laughed lightly before turning to look at his lover.  
“It is quite something isn’t it?  Sadly it isn’t used very much. I used to love visiting here in the summer,” the younger of the two admitted with a warm smile playing at his lips while he lost himself in a memory.  
  
The house was large. It had three stories plus the basement.  Outside the building was covered in grey bricks.  Q wasn’t sure how old the house was but fairly old due to the victorian style of the inside.    
“I’ve always loved the style of the home,” the brunette admitted.  He had to lean on James for support as they entered the building.  
“Honestly, I can’t say I’m a big fan of Victorian things,” James replied.  
“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Q chuckled to himself and gave the other a quick kiss on the cheek.  
“Why is that?” Bond asked smiling to himself.  
“Because you have no style.”

 

  
**XXXX**

  
  
Q had started forgetting things months before. It was never a huge deal. He’d never forget who he was, where he was, or who James was. It was just the odd time where he’d look at an apple and forget the name of the fruit or he’d be thinking of a word, know it’s meaning, but not be able to say what he meant.  
  
As the fourth month dragged by the forgetting became worse. It was no longer just the odd time where Q  couldn’t think of the name of things. Now, Q would be telling Bond something and he’d often stop mid sentence trying to put the pieces together and remember what they were talking about. Other times, the man would walk into a room and forget why he had taken so much effort to get up. He’d stumble back to where he was resting only to then remember why he had gotten up in the first place. James would have found it a little bit funny if the forgetfulness wasn’t an indicator and reminder of the tumor killing Q.  
  
 _6\. Forgetting._  
 _-This  is probably the most terrifying of the side effects. It is like a large blinking sign telling you that you’ve only got a month left to live.  I don’t want to forget things. I don’t want to die. I might like to forget I’m dying for a little while though,_  
  
  
The rest of the fourth month was spent hanging out around the house. Q loved the moments where he could just enjoy sitting outside in the cool breeze of summer. Although, he hated that no longer did he have the strength to walk the grounds which he loved so much.

  
**XXXX**

  
  
Q loved the stars, he loved the field near the summer home,  and he loved James Bond. It was his last request to die surrounded by the things he loved the most. At first, James had wanted to say no. He didn’t want to accept that Q knew that July 9th was his last day. He had woken up in the morning to find Q sitting near the bedroom windows looking out at the world.    
“Morning,” James had yawned and began to get out of bed. “You’re up early.” Q didn’t reply for a second.  
“Well I thought I’d enjoy my last sunrise,” he explained softly.  
“What do you mean last?” Bond questioned even though he already knew the answer.  
“I mean that I’m not going to be around to see tomorrows.” James said nothing. He found himself at a loss for words. Nothing made sense.  
“I guess it is time to tell you my final request then. I’d like to spend my last few minutes out in that field,” Q spoke before pointing out the window to a small hill. “Under the stars because they’ve always been so amazing here and with you by my side.” James could say nothing so he just gave a small nod. A sad smile was what he got in return.

  
  
**XXXX**

 

They had spent the last sunset curled up on the bench on the houses back patio underneath a blanket. Neither spoke as the sky was filled with warm colours. A sad smile spread across Q’s lips as the warm started to turn into navy and then black.  
“I suppose we better head out to the hill then.”  
“Yes I guess so.”  
  
  
There was something almost magical about the sky that night. Over the last two months James had taken notice to the difference in London nights and summer house nights. Out in the country the stars where the only lights during the late hours. They were beautiful, clear, and if it wasn’t cloudy, pretty breathtaking.    
  
Q was wrapped up in his lover's arms. He watched as the light from the sky danced across Bond’s face as they waited. It wasn’t a long wait, Soon enough Q could feel the world slipping away from him. Every breath became a little more of a challenge. With the little strength left, Q kissed James before lying back down.  
“Dying isn’t all that bad except now I’ve got to think of last words,” he laughed softly.  
“Q-” James began.  
“Ssh, it’s okay. I’ll miss you and the stars but death isn’t like never seeing each other again. It isn’t goodbye.”  
  
His voice trailed off. James watched as the last flicker of life faded from his lover’s eyes.  It had been five months of pretending to be okay.  Five months of getting by week by week with a smile. Now there was no need to keep holding in how broken he was. For the first time since his parents died, James Bond cried.

  
  
**XXXX**

  
  
Life went by too slowly.  James kept living on even though Q had been gone for years. The man had never left Bond truly. Sure at one point James had started to try and date again and had even gotten himself married for a few loveless years until his ex-wife had decided they were just wanting different things. Truth was, James just didn’t want to be alone but the woman wasn’t Q and it wasn’t the same.  Over the years people began to worry. It drove him nuts when anyone suggested he get help because living in the past was going to be the death of him. James just put on his best fake smile and told them he’d be fine. Truth was, he thought it would be nice to have it kill him.  
  
The only thing that kept James going throughout life was the moments where he swore he could hear Q typing away at his laptop in the bedroom or humming to himself as he read a book in the living room. There were moments when Bond swore that for a split second he could see Q watching the sun set on the balcony. Other times there would the feeling of a warm hand on his shoulder or a kiss on the cheek. Those were the seconds Bond kept living for.  
  
  
He lived a fairly long life and died a peaceful death. It was old age that took his life rather than sickness. On one November night, James Bond had fallen asleep and just hadn’t woken up.

  
  
  
**XXXX**

  
  
  
**Epilogue.**

  
  
The soft breeze of summer moved across his skin. James took a second to enjoy it before realizing that he was no longer in his bedroom in the apartment. Quickly he sat up opening his eyes. Confusion took the place of the shock, He was sitting in a field. A very familiar field yet not at all. It took only a second for him to realize exactly where he was. He hadn’t been to Q’s summer house since the day he had died. James was haunted enough by the other’s memory. However, the stars now shone more brilliantly than they had. They were almost an unreal beauty. They were unworldly.  
  
“James?” A voice spoke, It was soft and calm. Looking to his side, there sat Q eyeing  him curiously.  
“What an odd dream,” Bond laughed sadly. “You look so healthy, so this couldn’t possibly be a memory. I’ll admit, I’ve aged since we last saw one another.” Q only gave the other man a smile.  
“This isn’t a dream or a memory. Also, you don’t look a day older since I last saw you,” the young brunette explained before showing  James his own hand. “See.”  
“I-I don’t understand. What is going on?”  
“I waited years to see you again, James. Don’t you remember? I told you once that dying isn’t goodbye forever? So hello again.”

* * *

  
**“Now, when you’re standing at a crossroads**

**That you cannot comprehend**

**Just remember**

**Death is not the end.”**

**-Bob Dylan**

****

**Author's Note:**

> A playlist to go along with this FanFiction:  
> http://8tracks.com/horizonskyfall/be-fine-till-the-end-of-the-week


End file.
